


boy toy named yuuri used to live in detroit

by seventhstar



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Eavesdropping, M/M, Oblivious Heartbreaker Katsuki Yuuri, POV Victor Nikiforov, Possessive Behavior, Thirsty Victor Nikiforov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-12
Updated: 2018-02-12
Packaged: 2019-03-17 02:21:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13649436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seventhstar/pseuds/seventhstar
Summary: Viktor wants those thighs engraved on his tombstone as his cause of death. Is it undignified? Yes. Will Viktor need dignity when he’s dead? No.





	boy toy named yuuri used to live in detroit

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LittleLostStar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleLostStar/gifts).
  * Translation into Português brasileiro available: [Um bofe chamado Yuuri costumava viver em Detroit](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14255745) by [JunoAlBoo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JunoAlBoo/pseuds/JunoAlBoo)



> happy belated birthday star! lmao i'm sorry it took 90000 years

Viktor’s latest hobby: eavesdropping on people drooling over his extremely beautiful fiance.

What? It’s either laugh about it or collapse into a sea of nervous jealousy, and life is too short for that nonsense. Besides, Yuuri never, ever notices people are hitting on him. No matter how blatant they are about their desire to be killed by his thighs, Yuuri inevitably rewrites reality in his mind to make it seem like they said something, anything else. Which is fine. He notices when Viktor is hitting on him (now), which is all that matters.

* * *

Exhibit A: Sometimes Yuuri wears the yoga pants Viktor bought him due to filthy ulterior motives out in pubic. They’re dark blue, and they’re strained at the seams over Yuuri’s thighs, and once Yuuri dropped something and squat down to pick it up and the woman at the bar next to him swooned.

Viktor wants those thighs engraved on his tombstone as his cause of death. Is it undignified? Yes. Will Viktor need dignity when he’s dead? No.

They’re eating McDonalds, because it’s the Russian figure skating team’s cheat day and that’s what Yuri always picks when it’s his turn. Yuuri is a McDonalds devotee. While the others are alternating talking and laughing, and Viktor is sadly hungry because he hates McDonalds, Yuuri is working his way through his food with the same intensity he applies to doing the quad flip or sucking Viktor’s dick or finding cute dogs to pet when they’re walking Makkachin.

They’re sitting on benches in public, and Yuuri’s legs are stretched out in front of him. A couple passersby are staring at him. They’re whispering to each other. Viktor can’t hear what they’re saying, but he can guess: Yuuri looks like he could crush a watermelon between his thighs, and the passersby would like to crawl between his legs and get fucked.

Viktor slides his arm over Yuuri’s shoulders and squeezes.

“Do you want some?” Yuuri asks. He offers one of his french fries.

Last month Yuri tried to steal a french fry and Yuuri slapped his hand away without even looking.

Viktor doesn’t like french fries. But he opens his mouth and lets Yuuri put one in.

When they pass the whispering oglers on their way back to the rink, Viktor winks at them. It almost makes up for having to eat a french fry. Do they really take nine years to digest? God, Viktor hopes not.

* * *

Exhibit B: The first time Viktor ever saw Yuuri’s ass he had a moment. Admittedly, Yuuri was clinging to him with drunken determination at the time, and insisting Viktor be his coach, and his pants were falling off, and immediately afterward he took off most of his clothing and started poledancing.

At any rate, even after months of naked hot spring soaking together and numerous actual sexual encounters, sometimes Yuuri bends over and Viktor still has a moment.

He can’t really blame strangers, who aren’t inured to Yuuri’s charms, to cope.

Yuuri likes to practice his ballet in Lilia’s studio. His preference is always to be alone, but that’s not always possible, and so when he is there with others the rules are simple. (Lilia’s rules are always simple; probably so that no one can dispute her when she makes the bodies of the disobedient disappear.) Yuuri may do as he pleases as long as he is productive, as long as he is quiet, and as long as he endures being used as a example during her classes with good grace.

If it were anyone else, Lilia’s students would harbor some resentment towards them. But Yuuri…

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to focus on anything while Katsuki is dancing over there,” one of them whispers, too loudly. They haven’t noticed Viktor yet. “Did you see him touch his toes? Ugh.”

“Ugh,” another one agrees.

“He’s so…round.”

“Firm.”

“Yummy.”

“Good afternoon!” Viktor says. “How are you? Working hard?”

“Gah,” the tiniest of them says.

“Good, good. Excuse me.” He slides past their flabbergasted faces (Viktor isn’t even mad, he caught Yuuri doing naked yoga last week and wore the same exact expression for the milliseconds before he pounced). Yuuri is inside; from his ramrod posture and his intense face, he’s listening to Lilia’s critique.

“Ready?”

“Yeah.” Yuuri makes a face, but lets Viktor take his hand as they walk out, past the giggling gaggle of students. “Why do they keep laughing at me? Do I look stupid?”

“They’re laughing at me,” Viktor lies smoothly.

Yuuri looks highly skeptical, but he lets it pass.

* * *

Exhibit C: No one is immune to Yuuri. Even long term exposure doesn’t seem to help.

“Okay,” Yuuko says. She’s slurring her words. Vodka will do that to a woman. “But did you know Yuuri can—can pick up a man?”

“Yeah,” Takeshi says. He slaps the table; it wobbles alarmingly. Viktor shudders. “Yeah, he picked up Viktor!”

“He’s so strong. I like it.” Yuuko pats Takeshi’s bicep. “You know?”

“He’s a beast.”

“I bet he could pick you up.”

“I wish he would.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah.”

Both of them drink, and choke, and sigh. Yuuri is staying with the triplets at their house so Yuuko and Takeshi can celebrate their anniversary in peace at Yu-topia. Viktor isn’t with him, because the triplets insisted they wanted Yuuri alone. Which leaves him with the role of vodka supplier.

Does Viktor like hearing people gush about how unbelievably hot his man is? Yes. Is it significantly less funny coming out of the mouths of two of the few people Viktor actually suspects, in his darkest days, of being threats to his relationship? Yes.

Also, they’re now trying to figure out threesome logistics, and Viktor is still in the room. This was a mistake.

* * *

Exhibit D: Yuuri’s university in Detroit sends him an innocuous invitation one day. Yuuri tries to hide it, and then makes several well-reasoned arguments for why they should not go to his reunion, but Viktor wins. He wants to meet all Yuuri’s college friends, and see his old haunts, and guess how many of them were in love with Yuuri.

“You want me to what?”

“Show up a bit late.”

“…why?”

“Well…” Yuuri sighs deeply. “It’s more dramatic that way.”

“Yuuri,” Viktor says, delighted beyond belief, “are you showing me off?”

“Look, just say you’ll do it.”

“I would do anything if you asked,” Viktor says. “Of course I will. I’ll go put on more mascara.”

“That’s not really—okay. See you.”

Viktor applies another coat of mascara, and then sharpens his highlight, too.

He has to admit, he’s not sure why Yuuri is so nervous about making a good impression at this reunion. Maybe he has someone he wants to impress? That thought inspires a little jealousy, but Viktor talks himself out of it. Who could Yuuri want to impress more than Viktor himself?

He gives Yuuri half an hour before getting in a cab and following him.

The reunion is being held in a gymnasium. There is a table up front to sign in—Viktor accepts a plus one sticker, but despairs at having to stick it to his good suit—and people milling around in small groups. Yuuri isn’t visible at first; Viktor realizes after a moment that that’s just because his body is being blocked by a much larger man.

That’s Viktor’s cue.

“Oh my god, someone stop Chad.”

“Is that Katsuki? Damn.” Someone whistles. “Chad is out of his league.”

“Probably regrets calling him Fatty Katsuki for an entire semester.”

“Excuse me,” Viktor says. “Who is that?”

“Yuuri Katsuki, class heartthrob. You don’t remember him? God, he was so tragically unavailable. Spent all his time obsessing over some ice skater and studying. Chad tried hitting on him, and when that didn’t work, he thought negging would work. It didn’t. You don’t remember any of this?” The woman frowns at him. “Wait, did you even go here?”

“Ah, that explains it. I had better go rescue him.”

Chad of the rude nicknames is looming over Yuuri, who is wincing at the volume of his voice. Yuuri is wearing grey, with a tie Viktor bought him, a plate piled with food in his hands. He looks like a dramatic interruption is exactly what he needs.

“Yuuri!” Viktor drapes himself over Yuuri affectionately. “There you are.”

“Vitya,” Yuuri says. He sounds pleased. “This is, uh…Vlad?”

“Chad.”

“Right. This is my—”

“I’m Yuuri’s trophy husband.”

“Viktor!”

“Future trophy husband.”

“Stop telling everyone that,” Yuuri hisses. “People are going to think you’re a mail order bride I bought on the internet.”

“Oh, please, like you haven’t had that exact fantasy.”

While Yuuri splutters, Viktor beams at Chad, who looks flummoxed. Good. He should know just how out of his league Yuuri is. How dare he call Yuuri fat? Yuuri is perfect. The best.

“I’m sorry, and you are…?”

“Chad Gaston. I’m a lacrosse player. You might have heard of me, I’m about to make it big.”

“Oh, wow.”

“What do you do?”

“Viktor and I are competitive figure skaters,” Yuuri says. “Vitya, here, eat this.” He shoves the plate at Viktor.

Viktor makes the mistake of putting one of the tiny pastries in his mouth while Chad and Yuuri are talking. It’s dry, crumbly, and tastes faintly of vinegar.

“Yuuri, why did you make me eat this?”

“You’re such a snob,” Yuuri says fondly. He takes back the plate and passes Viktor his champagne instead.

“I didn’t win two Olympic gold medals to have to eat this.”

Chad chokes. Viktor leans his head against Yuuri smugly, and feels Yuuri’s arm tighten around his waist. The people watching them are all covering their mouths to hide their laughter. Viktor almost feels bad for Chad. No, wait, he doesn’t.

The champagne, at least, is serviceable.

“Anyways, it was nice to meet you, Charlie,” Viktor says, “but Yuuri promised to introduce me to all his friends…?”

“Yeah, sure,” Yuuri says. He finishes off the champagne in one gulp, and mutters, “This was a bad idea.”

“Why?”

“They’ll think I’m bragging!”

“Why shouldn’t you? Believe me, I do, at every opportunity.”

“…fine.” Yuuri tosses the plate of terrible food. “Come on, I want you to meet this jerk from calculus…”

Viktor glances over at the aforementioned jerk, realizes he’s checking out Yuuri with a longing look, and grins. Yuuri really is completely oblivious, isn’t he? That’s fine. _More for me,_ he thinks, and lets Yuuri introduce him to their next victim.

**Author's Note:**

> i apologize for NOTHING


End file.
